


Hunting

by mourninghope (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Freeform, Knotting, M/M, References to Knotting, bonded mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1861839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mourninghope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out of Beacon Hills hunting rogue wolves, Stiles and Derek run into the infamous Winchester Brothers.  Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily edited and expanded first chapter. More will follow. It's hard to get back on the writing train after having been off it for so long.

“What the fuck ever! Dude, you need to lie the fuck down before you fall the fuck down!” Stiles shoved at Derek’s shoulders, sneakers squeaking against the tile – and really, who puts tile in a flipping hotel room? – as the wolf squared his rather impressive shoulders and leaned into the skinny human teen.

“You need to get out of my way, Stiles. Now!” Snarling, Derek snapped his teeth less than an inch from Stiles’ nose; the teen didn’t flinch, just put more pressure against the alpha’s chest. 

“Not gonna happen, Derek! You’re healing slowly! Not human slow but slow enough that I can see your fucking ribs through the gashes, man! Sit down!” Feet scrabbling, Stiles redoubled his efforts, digging his toes into the floor. Derek refused to move. Taking a deep breath, Stiles poked the wolf in the forehead, smirking as his eyes fluttered and closed. Derek crumpled and Stiles tilted forward, driving wolf and teen onto the bed which sagged beneath their weight with a low whine of protest.

“Who’s the man? I’m the man. That’s right. Me.” Stiles untangled their legs and rolled to the side, panting up at the ceiling. “Dumb ass, stubborn as fuck wolf.” 

Stiles stood with a low groan and stalked across the room; he double checked the lock on the door, laid down a thick line of mountain ash, followed by a thin line of salt, then grabbed his backpack and made his way back to the bed. “You are so lucky I’m with you,” he muttered, dumping the bag’s contents next to Derek’s head.

“Also, you’re lucky Deaton taught me something besides how to utilize my mystical ‘spark’. So, what I’m going to do, Sourwolf, is stitch you up. Yup. You heard me. I, Stiles Stilinski, long suffering pain in your ass am going to disinfect and stitch up these wounds for you. Hopefully, before you wake up,” he rambled, fumbling the bottle of alcohol briefly before getting the cap off and dumping half of it over Derek’s ribcage. 

Derek’s eyes flew wide at the first touch of the liquid and he hissed between sharply clenched teeth, body jerking at the stinging pain. Yelping, Stiles slung an arm across his upper chest, pinning the writhing wolf to the bed. “Easy. Easy, Der. I got you. I got you.”

“I’m… Good,” Derek bit out, closing his eyes tightly. “Just hurry and do what you’re gonna do. Before. I. Lose. It!” 

“Yup. Yeah. Okay. I got this.” Stiles threaded the narrow, curved needle on the first try, despite how badly his slim fingers shook, then shifted position to bend over Derek’s chest, setting needle to flesh. Forcing his breathing calm, Stiles set to work, focusing on each stitch, rather than the too-pale flesh stretching with every tug of his needle. 

Finally, he sat back and swiped a forearm across his sweaty brow. “There. You still with me, Derek,” he asked, glancing at Derek’s face. He flushed beneath the wolf’s wide-eyed, green gaze and rolled his lips between his teeth.

“You did good,” Derek rasped, wrapping strong fingers over the curve of Stiles’ thigh. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. Well. Y’know. I’m a god among men,” Stiles quipped before exhaling raggedly. “I’m uh. I’m gonna go wash my hands and get a rag to clean you up a bit, okay? Just, don’t move. For once in your life, Der, listen to me and just stay here, okay?” 

“Yeah. Can do that,” Derek said thickly, lashes fluttering as he fought to keep his eyes open. 

“Good. Go ahead and close your eyes, Der. We’re safe. For now.” 

Derek jackknifed upwards. “Fuck! No, we’re not. Hunters. It’s not just the rogue wolves we have to worry about. There’s hunters. Fricken Winchesters!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Stiles muttered, shoving Derek back down. “Just… Lie down for a bit. I’ve got the shotgun and the .9mil. Everything’ll be fine. If you want I’ll even do a quick anti-human ward. That make you feel better?” 

“Marginally. _If_ it works, Stiles.” Derek let himself fall backwards, grunting softly as his back hit the mattress. 

“Yeah, I know. Last one didn’t work but those guys weren’t exactly human, remember?” Rolling his eyes, Stiles bounded to his feet and grabbed their second, smaller go-bag. “Still not sure what they were,” he mumbled to himself as he dug four smoothly polished river rocks out of the bottom of the bag and set them at cardinal points in the small room. He had to dig down deep to find his center but when he did all the tension seeped from his shoulders and he mentally wrapped himself in the soothing gold and silver threads tying him to his grumpy wolf.

A quick incantation later and the wards activated with a low, growling hum. Pleased, Stiles grabbed the shotgun and sauntered back to the bed, curling up against Derek’s good side, too tired to even bother with the hand washing he’d mentioned. He smiled when the semi-conscious wolf slipped an arm beneath his head and tugged, easing Stiles’ up to rest against his shoulder. 

Stiles woke with a start less than an hour later, the wards snarling inside his head. “Fuck! Der, we got company. Wakey-wakey.” 

Grumbling, the wolf pushed himself to his feet and Shifted, shaking out of his clothes as he dropped to all fours. Stiles stood more slowly, then buried the fingers of one hand in Derek’s thick black fur as he leveled the .9mil at the door with his other. “Not very subtle are they,” he murmured, smirking as Derek canted his to one side and then the other, listening intently to the sound of picks being worked in the lock.

Stiles snorted as the door sprung open and one Dean Winchester tumbled forward to smash his face against the invisible barrier of the ward. “The fuck?” Pressing his palms flat against the shield, he pushed back, levering himself upright.

“Ward, Dean. I told you.” Sam smirked and idly ran a hand through his too-long hair, keen eyes flicking from Derek’s hunched and snarling form to the steady barrel of Stiles’ gun. “Um. Hi.” 

“Hi,” Stiles returned slowly, arching a brow. “Think y’all got the wrong room. Don’t you? I mean, thought it’d be kind of obvious what with the lock picking and all that was necessary to open the door.” Stiles shifted and pointed the gun at the space between Dean’s eyes. He tskd softly. “Hand’s where I can see them if you please, Dean.” 

“You uh, you know that’s not a big black dog, right kid,” Dean asked, gesturing towards Derek who leaned into Stiles’ calves, lips pulled back to display very sharp, very white fangs that glistened with strings of saliva.

“Yup!” Stiles popped the ‘p’ and grinned. 

“So then, I suppose you know that we can’t just let the two of you leave town, right,” Sam asked as he pushed experimentally against the ward with the flat of his hands. “I mean clearly, you aren’t human either, are you? What are you? Fae? Witch?”

“Sammy,” Dean muttered, eyes widening as Stiles dramatically chambered a round and swung the gun back in Sam’s direction. “Uh, maybe we made a mistake. I mean, clearly we aren’t coming through this… force field or whatever so maybe we’ll just leave now. Right, Sammy? We’re just gonna take off, let the two of you get back to whatever it was you were doing.” 

Derek lunged forward, teeth snapping, then let his tongue loll in a grin as the Winchesters stepped back. 

Stiles laughed and tugged lightly on Derek’s bushy black tail. “You know, if you’d just knocked at the door, we’d be more inclined to talk to you. Cause seriously, I think we could probably help each other out.” He rolled his eyes at the stink-eyed look from Derek.

“And just why would we help a were and his pet whatever the fuck you are,” Dean asked as he sidled closer to his freakishly tall little brother. 

Stiles thumbed the safety on the handgun, and tucked it into the back of his jeans. “Because we’re here for the same reason you are.” 

“What? We’re supposed to believe that you’re hunting Shifters?” Sam snorted and leaned his shoulder solidly against Dean’s. 

“Pretty much.” Stiles slid over to the northern ward stone, ignoring Derek’s constant low-key growling, and picked it up; the ward collapsed with a sigh. Pocketing the stone he retreated to Derek’s side, never taking his eyes off the brothers. “Besides, I’ve got a couple questions for you two about some nastiness we ran into a while back in Beacon Hills. Figured it was your kind of deal.” 

“Why’d you lower that shield-thingy?” Dean frowned, edging his toe into the room. 

“Easier to talk if I’m not focused on keeping the two of you out. It’s not like it would have stopped Sam there for long anyway. Not exactly human.” Stiles shrugged and kicked Derek’s pants toward him as the wolf Shifted, utterly unconcerned about his nakedness.

Sam hissed at the sight of the neatly stitched claw marks on Derek’s torso, the sight keeping his eyes well above the lean v of Derek’s hips, as the wolf slipped into his jeans. “Thought you guys healed fast?” 

Derek snorted, hazel eyes rolling as he did up the button fly. “Usually do.” He glanced at Stiles, brow arching and the teen sighed, shrugging. 

“In for a penny, in for a pound, Der. You two might as well come in and close the door. I swear no harm will come to you if no harm is offered.”

Dean shuddered and rolled his shoulders as prickling warmth spilled across his body. “The fuck was that?” 

“A binding oath,” Derek muttered, fingers poking at the stitches. He growled as Stiles slapped his hand away and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, Dean. Unless we try and hurt them first, they literally can’t do anything to us,” Sam said softly, edging past his brother and into the room, shoes squeaking on the tile. “Who the fuck tiles a motel room floor,” he muttered, blinking at said floor in bewilderment.

“Someone who wants to make cleanup easy.” Shrugging, Dean stepped up beside his brother and kicked the door closed behind him. 

“Probably a good thing, as Der bled all over the damn place.” Stiles sighed and dropped down beside the wolf, slim hand settling on Derek’s thigh. 

Sam pulled out a couple chairs from around the rickety little dinette and shoved one at Dean as he sat. “So. You know our names but we don’t know yours.”

Stiles shrugged, glancing at Derek. “What can it hurt, man? I’m Stiles Stilinski and this not so joyous bundle of angst is Derek Hale.”

“Stilinski. Stilinski,” Sam muttered, eyes going wide when it clicked. “Your dad’s John Stilinski! Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Our dad knew him! Hunted with him and your mom, when he was out that way.” 

Nodding, Stiles settled more firmly against Derek’s side, face tightening a bit at the mention of his mom. “Yeah. That’s how I knew who you two boneheads were. Dad’d mentioned you once or twice. Said if there was ever any serious trouble to try and find you. Unfortunately, we couldn’t. Find you I mean. And let me tell ya, there was some serious fucking trouble not that long ago.” 

“You can’t be more than what? Sixteen? Seventeen?” Dean leaned forward, dropping his elbows to his knees. “Shouldn’t you, I dunno, be in school?” 

Derek heaved a long-suffering sigh and slumped as he slapped a hand over Stiles’ mouth. “Please don’t get him started.” He huffed and shot the teen a look before wiping his palm over Stiles’ hair. “Really?”

Stiles grinned, amber eyes sparkling. “You don’t usually complain when I use my tongue,” he said brightly, falling into laughter at the disturbed looks Dean and Sam shot them. “And I’m going to be eighteen in two months. No big thing. Besides, I _know_ the two of you didn’t get a steady high school education.” 

“Yeah. Well. Unlike your dad, ours moved us around a lot,” Sam muttered, frowning.

“So. Tell us about this big bad you guys ran into,” Dean said, shooting his brother a look. 

“Not much to tell.” Derek grunted and twisted a bit, pressing one palm against his ribcage. “Black eyes. Massive carnage. Almost wiped out the town.” 

“Don’t forget the guys with the wings and bad attitudes,” Stiles quipped, grabbing something from behind him before shifting to kneel at Derek’s feet, facing the dour-faced wolf. “Move your hand,” he commanded softly as he unscrewed the top on the small jar and dipped his fingers into the viscous stuff; it smelled strongly of menthol and Derek hissed when Stiles began to spread it over his injuries.

“What he said,” he bit out between clenched teeth. 

“What is that stuff,” Sam asked, blinking and fumbling to catch the capped jar as Stiles lobbed it at him. 

“Analgesic. Eases pain and promotes faster healing. Works just as well on us as them,” Stiles said, lifting his shirt to spread the remaining gunk on his fingers over a couple large bruises just above his right hip.

“So,” Dean said, straightening to glance at his brother as Sam uncapped the jar and sniffed. “Black eyed guys, probably demons. Winged guys with bad attitudes probably angels. But uh, how’d you know about the wings? I mean, normally you can’t see them. Not unless they want you to and I can’t see a bunch of angels walking around with their wings on display. Also, I get coming across the demons, but angels usually have to be summoned. They don’t typically just get involved.”

“Cas does.” Sam smirked at his brother and dipped a finger in the unguent. 

“Cas is… Different.” Glowering, Dean let his lean body sprawl and rocked the chair up on its back legs. 

“That’s one word for it.” Sam capped the jar and tossed it back to Stiles, then spread the little dab on his fingertip over a shallow cut on his forearm. “Hey… Whoa. Kinda burns.” 

“You get used to it,” Stiles said, smirking as he slipped behind Derek on the bed and started shoving things into the small go-bag. “Pain’ll fade in about twenty minutes give or take and you should notice significant improvement within the hour.

As for the angel bit. I’m the only one who saw the wings. Well, me and Deaton.”

“Who’s Cas?” Derek shoved Stiles out from behind him and slid back on the bed until he was resting against the wall. 

“Cas is Dean’s boyfri-“

“Guardian angel. He’s my guardian angel. And my friend,” Dean said in a rush, mowing right over Sam, a light flush darkening his tan. 

“Whatever floats your boat, man.” Stiles waved a lazy hand in Dean’s general direction. “Anyway. Right now we’re after a small pack of renegade wolves that tried to take over our territory right after the black eyed baddies got through with the town. Figure that’s what you’re doing here too. Followed the stories of all the animal maulings? Unfortunately, the first time you run into them is the same time we do and instead of realizing that it was four against two and that we weren’t the bad guys, you assumed we were and came after us instead of chasing them back to their den.” 

Dean had the grace to look vaguely ashamed and Sam ducked his head, chewing on his lower lip. “Well, uh,” Sam began.

“They looked human in the dark. He,” Dean said, gesturing at Derek, “didn’t.” 

“Huh.” Stiles snorted and dropped the pack to the floor before scooting around to sit beside Derek, their shoulders pressed together in a long, warm line. “That’s because he’s an alpha and can do that half-man thing. They’re just betas. They have a kind of a… a game-face and claws. That’s about it.” 

“Game-face? Oh! Like the vamps on Buffy,” Dean said brightly. “Now she was hot,” he mused, eyes going a bit distant. “Perfect, perky… Anyway. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and ignored Sam’s disbelieving bitch-face.

“Anyways,” the younger brother drawled. “Sorry. I’m sorry. _We’re_ sorry, but yeah, we followed the two of you. No idea where they might be holed up.” 

“Sokay. We can track them. But in the morning, yeah?” Stiles bit back a yawn and scratched idly at his abdomen.

“Yeah. Of course. We’ll uh… We’ll just get out of your hair, then,” Dean said, standing slowly.

Derek snorted. “I don’t think so. I think the two of you can take the second bed. Rather have you here. Where I can keep an eye on you.”

“What about you two? There’s no couch or anything,” Sam said, eyes widening at the slow, absolutely filthy grin that spread across Stiles’ face.

“Trust me when I say that us sharing a bed is no big deal.” 

“Okay then. On that note, I’m just gonna hit the head. Shower. Is it uh… Is it okay if Sammy goes out to the car and gets our stuff? No weapons,” Dean hastened to add as a low growl trickled between Derek’s lips. “Just clothes and stuff?” 

“Yeah. Think I’ll go with him just to make sure that’s all he gets,” Derek said slowly, pushing to his feet. He paused and cupped a hand around the back of Stiles’ head, laying a gentle but clearly possessive kiss on the teen’s lips. 

“I got this.” Smiling, Stiles leaned up for a second, longer kiss that leaves the Winchesters slack-jawed and flushed, pants a tad to tight for either brothers’ comfort. 

*****

“So, uh… You and the kid, huh?” Sam met Derek’s gaze squarely, eyes dark and chin raised.

Derek folded his arms across his broad chest, palm pressed flat against the stitches on his right side. The wolf arched one dark brow and narrowed his eyes. “You and your brother, huh,” he countered, a growl rumbling beneath his words.

“What? No! God, no!” Sam shuddered. “We’ll live in each other’s pockets, man.” He flushed as Derek slowly grinned. “Asshole.’ 

Derek snorted. “That’s what you get for asking an obvious question. Stiles is young but he’s not a kid. He knows his own mind. And his heart. Trust me on that one. You on the other hand,” he said, gesturing Sam toward the Impala, “don’t seem to have a clue.”

“No. Just no.” Sam shook his head slowly, shoulders slumping. “Besides, he’s got Cas, y’know.”

“Thought this Cas was ‘just a friend’?” Derek caught the door of the Impala as Sam swung it forcefully open. 

“Dean’s… I dunno.” Shrugging, Sam dug a single large duffel out of the backseat and tossed it to the wolf who dropped it onto the hood of the car. “He’s not gay but Cas is different. Dean’s different around him.”

“Huh.” Derek unzipped the bag and rifled through its contents. “I almost believe you, Sam.” 

“Almost?” Sam flushed, closing the car door with his hip.

“You’re jealous. Of Cas.” Shrugging, Derek closed the bag and pushed away from the car. “Plus, your heart jackrabbited when I asked about you and Dean.”

“Jealous? Where do you get that? And of course my heart went wonky. That was a pretty effed up question, man, even if I did deserve the turnabout.” 

“I can smell it. All over both of you. Trust me, it’s more than simple brotherly love, no matter what the two of you wanna tell yourselves.”

“Whatever.” Huffing, Sam grabbed the bag and shouldered past the wolf, stomping back to the room. 

****

Sam pulled a clean pair of sweats up his damp legs then moved to stand in front of the mirror. Wiping it down with his towel, he gazed hard at his reflection, focusing on the sound of Dean’s voice; he found the tone comforting despite the fact that he couldn’t make out the words through the closed bathroom door. 

Leaning into the sink, the cracked porcelain digging into his gut, he studied his reflection in the mirror, tipping his head from one side to the other. His eyes filled with black before slowly resuming their usual murky green and Sam staggered back. 

Exhaling roughly, he flung the towel over the single, crowded bar, then ran his hands quickly through his overlong hair. Yanking open the door, Sam stalked passed the Wolf’s bed to drop down next to Dean, their knees just touching. 

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean leaned into his brother’s warm side.

“I’m fine, Dean. Just…” He shrugged, glancing briefly at the other bed. “Wolf said some fucked up shit.” 

“So’d the kid.” Dean slipped up the bed to rest against the headboard. He drew his knees up to his chest and let his hands dangle between them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. I just wanted to get something up. Need to do another chapter on one of the others as well today. I'll try and write more later.

Soft, wet sounds and ragged panting dragged Sam out of sleep. He lay still in the darkness, Dean a solid weight against his back, his brother’s arm flung across his hips, fingers perilously close to his burgeoning erection. He shifted his hips, easing away from Dean and closer to the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the shifting shadows four feet away.

Sam let the inky black spill across his eyes and the occupants of the bed jumped into sharp, bright edged focus. Stiles lay on his side, eyes tightly closed and a grimace clenching his teeth; sweat beaded on the teen’s face and slide sinuously down his long neck. The wolf pressed close behind, one big arm locked around Stile’s chest, the teen’s fingers dimpling the firm flesh. 

Swallowing hard, Sam struggled to slow his breathing as Derek arched his upper body over Stile’s, hips rolling behind the teen. The sheet slipped and Sam caught sight of the teen’s straining cock; it jerked with every roll of the wolf’s hips, precum bubbling from the flushed tip. The wolf pressed his face into the side of Stiles’ neck and whined, his hips punching forward hard enough to push Stiles to the edge of the bed; the teen gasped and let go of the wolf’s arm to grab on thick thigh, holding tight. “D-don’t move, Der,” he whispered harshly, shudders wracking his leanly muscled frame. 

“Didn’t mean to knot,” Derek husked, a growl riding beneath the words. “Its…They’re too close.” 

Groaning, Stiles strained, neck arching, and rubbed his chin against Derek’s temple. “Also, the not-quite-human one is awake,” he whispered. 

Sam closed his eyes, shoulders hitching upward as he eased away from the edge of the bed. Dean muttered in his sleep and hooked an arm around Sam’s waist, reeling him in. “G’back t’sleep, Sammy,” the eldest Winchester mumbled, words thick with sleep.

Exhaling raggedly, Sam let Dean pull him close. He let Dean tangle their legs together beneath the threadbare cotton sheet. He let Dean nestle his half-hard cock against his ass and pressed his face into the pillow, cheeks flushed and confused tears welling beneath his lashes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas pays Sam a little nocturnal visit and things happen.

Sam squirmed and rubbed his face against the pillow, falling into a fitful sleep, trapped beneath the weight of his brother’s arm, their legs tangled together beneath the cool sheet, and Dean’s hips nestled tight to his ass. 

_“Sam.”_

_“Cas? What’s? Where?” Sam blinked against the bright light of morning streaming through the windows of the Impala._

_“You are dreaming, Sam. I felt that this was the most expedient way to speak to you without your brother knowing.”_

_“So, what? You can invade dreams now,” Sam asked, raking fingers through his too-long hair as he turned to face the angel sitting beside him in the back seat._

_“I do not invade dreams, Sam, I simply visit.” Castiel straightened the cuffs of his ever present white button down, tugging them even with the stained hem of the trench coat’s sleeves. “You seem troubled, Sam.”_

_“That’s one way to put it, Cas. I mean… What’s going on with me? What’s going on with Dean and me? Dean and you? What’s up with the kid and the wolf? With the rogue shifters? So many flipping questions.”_

_Castiel furrowed his brow and canted his head to one side as he regarded Sam. Shrugging, the angel scrambled over the seatback and settled into the driver’s seat. “I do not know what is happening to you, Samuel. None of the host knows. You appear to be a demon, or at the least demon-like. However, it is different than what had happened to you before. As for what is going on with Dean and yourself, I believe that is self-evident. You… Desire each other.”_

_Sam made a gagging sound and shimmied into the front seat as the angel started the car. “That’s disgusting and so not something that is happening, Cas. No,” he held up a hand as the angel opened his mouth to speak. “Just no. It’s wrong. Morally reprehensible.”_

_“How so?” Cas cut the engine with a frown and rubbed his palms over the worn leather of the steering wheel. “It is not as if the two of you are able to procreate.”_

_“It just… It just is, Cas. He’s my brother.” Sam shrugged and hunched down in the seat, folding his arms across his chest._

_“Is he? While I agree that the two of you share biology, you have not behaved as brothers for some time and you are changing, Samuel.”_

_“Okay, how about we forget all that for the time being and focus on the other issues. Starting with whatever has been going on between you and Dean.”_

_“Dean is my charge. As are you, Sam. That is all that is going on. I do not feel desire as you and your brother do.”_

_“Well that’s bullshit and I know it. C’mon, Cas, I caught the two of you making out like a couple of horny teenagers not two weeks ago and I don’t even want to know what happened after I closed the door.”_

_“Dean was distressed. Frustrated. I wished to ease him and had placed my hands on his shoulders. He lunged forward, kissed me and I returned the gesture,” Castiel said steadily, his eyes on the empty road, a soft flush darkening his cheeks._

_“And again, I call bullshit, Cas. I heard the sounds you were making. I saw how hard you were clinging to him when he slammed you into the wall.”_

_Cas cleared his throat roughly and tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. “It was a… Novel experience, Sam. I was momentarily overwhelmed.”_

_“So, nothing happened after I left?”_

_“I did not say that. You said that you did not wish to know what happened after you left.”_

_“Yeah, well now I’m curious.” Sam huffed out a breath and straightened, tucking a leg up onto the seat as he turned to face the angel, studying Cas’ profile._

_“I do not understand,” the angel admitted, prying one hand off the steering wheel to scrub at his stubbled jaw. “He removed my coat and tore my shirt open then pushed me to my knees and opened his pants. I could have fought him but I had seen something similar and wished to know. I wished to understand and so I took his penis into my mouth when he pressed it against my lips.”_

_Sam squirmed, flushing. “And?”_

_“Your brother… Dean… He held my hair and pushed his penis into my mouth. He crowded close until my nose was in his pubic hair and then he just stopped for a minute, gasping for breath.” Castiel glanced up at Sam and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms against his thighs. “Then he began to move. He fucked my mouth, I believe he called it. It hurt but was amazing. It was amazing to give him so much pleasure. I could feel it in him, the rising rush of it.”_

_“Jesus, Cas.” Sam’s voice was rough with shock and arousal. “Did he hurt you? I mean really hurt you?”_

_“No. He stopped before he reached his climax and pulled me up, kissing me again as he opened my pants. It was intense. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. My vessel is human and it responded. I was aroused and hard and it ached. When he pressed his penis against mine I thought that my knees would buckle but he was pressed so close that I could not move.”_

_Sam glanced to the angel’s lap, sucking in a startled breath at the burgeoning erection straining the front of the faded slacks. “You’re turned on now, just talking about it.”_

_“Turned on? Oh. Yes, Samuel, I am aroused.” Cas nodded sharply, jumping when Sam soothed his hand up the angel’s thigh. “You are as well,” the angel whispered, nostrils flaring._

_“Huh? Oh. Yeah. I… What the fuck is wrong with me, Cas?” Sam’s fingers spasmed against Castiel’s thigh, fingertips digging into tight flesh._

_“There is nothing wrong with you, Sam,” the angel murmured as he covered Sam’s hand with his own. “Shall I tell you the rest?”_

_“Uh. Y-yeah.” Sam coughed and relaxed his grip on Castiel’s thigh. “Yeah, Cas.”_

_“He kissed me again. Harder this time and he held my face with one hand, pressing his fingers into my jaw until I opened my mouth.” Cas drew a slow breath, stroking his fingers almost absently over the back of Sam’s hand. “He licked into my mouth again and again. It was as if he was licking the taste of himself out of me. Then, suddenly, he pulled away and turned me. He grabbed my hands and pressed them against the wall above my head and told me not to move. I tried to ask him why, to understand but he bit the side of my neck and I found I could not speak.”_

_Sam nodded mutely and shifted closer, his knee pressing hard against Cas’s thigh. “It felt good?”_

_“It was better than good. He licked the spot and then bit my shoulder as he kicked my legs apart. He kept biting and sucking at my skin, working his way down my back. His hands. Sam his hands were so strong as he stroked down my arms and sides. It felt like forever but I know that it was just minutes before he was kneeling behind me.” Cas let his head drop back, eyes closing as he guided Sam’s hand to rest, feather light, on the bulge of his cock. “He spread his hands over my buttocks and pulled them apart. I felt exposed and embarrassed. I was confused. I started to ask him what he was doing but then he licked me. There.”_

_Sam groaned and pressed the heel of one hand tightly against Castiel’s erection as he opened his jeans with his other. “He ate you out,” Sam whispered, voice thick._

_“Is that what it is called?” Cas shuddered and arched up into the pressure on his cock. “Then yes. He licked over and over my… My hole. He called it my ‘pretty little hole’, right before he pushed his tongue into me just like he had with my mouth. He bit and sucked at me, then pushed his tongue into me again and again until I was shaking and then… Then he pushed his thumb into me. It hurt but felt good. So good, Samuel.”_

_Sam dropped his forehead against Cas’ shoulder and tried to slow his breathing, groaning when the angel slipped fingers beneath his hand to open his own pants._

_“Touch me, Sam. Please,” the angel begged, his voice ragged. He whined when Sam slid down his zipper and wrapped thick fingers tight around his aching cock._

_“Yeah. I got you, Cas,” he whispered, squeezing the thick, dripping cock. “Don’t stop. What happened?”_

_Cas licked his lips and covered Sam’s hand again. “He stood and pressed against my back, whispering in my ear. He told me that… That he was going to ‘fuck my pretty little hole’ that he was going to ‘wreck me’ with his cock. I… He felt so big pressed up against the small of my back, the tip of his… Of his cock,” Case stumbled on the word, arching into Sam’s hand as the Winchester pumped his fist along the length of the angel’s dick._

_“Yeah. He’s big,” Sam agreed, pressing his face against Cas’ throat. “When I fell asleep he was pressed up against me. Even soft his cock is huge and he’d pressed it between my ass cheeks even though I was wearing boxers. Did he?” Sam asked, stroking his thumb over the tip of Cas’ cock, spreading the leaking precum around._

_“He did. He grabbed his penis and pushed it down until the tip of it was against my hole all hot and wet. He bit down into my shoulder and pushed. It hurt but I pushed back and that… That helped and then he was in me, sliding so slow until he was pressed against my buttocks. I felt so full. So strange.”_

_Sam licked up the length of the angel’s throat and clenched his teeth on Cas’ earlobe. Panting raggedly into the angel’s ear, he began to stroke the other’s thick cock, pumping it with firm, sure strokes._

_“He… Oh, God! Sam,” Cas groaned. “He grabbed my hips and pulled out, almost all the way out and then slammed back inside my body. I thought he really would tear me apart but then the pain kind of faded away. I healed I think and he was leaking so much that it eased the way. He pulled my hips back and my hands slid down the wall. I almost fell but he got us down on our knees and arched over me, pressing in as deep as he could as he lowered me flat to the floor. He never left my body, just shifted, putting his legs outside mine and kept going, moving. He said my name… Called out yours… It was the most intense thing my vessel had ever felt.”_

_“He called my name,” Sam asked thickly as he curled his big body on the seat and lowered his face toward Cas’ lap._

_“He did. Sam… What?” Cas shivered, stroking his hand through Sam’s hair as the Winchester brother swiped his tongue through the fluid at the tip of the angel’s cock._

_Sam shook his head abruptly and sucked the fat head between his lips, tongue whipping back and forth._

_“He told me that I was perfect. That my… He said that my ‘tight little hole was made for’ his ‘cock’. My penis was rubbing against the carpet and he was slamming in and out of my body. I spilled my seed and he shouted, grinding down into my body and spilled, filling me up. Oh God, Sam, just… Yes,” the angel panted, stroking gently through Sam’s hair as the Winchester took more of his cock into his mouth, cheeks hollowing._

_Sam groaned and palmed his own cock, stroking it furiously as he worked his mouth up and down the angel’s shaft._

“Mnn…” Sam groaned, rubbing his face against the pillow as a firm hand clutched against his hip, pulling him closer. Sleepily, he covered the hand on his hip and pressed back against the heavy cock swelling between the cheeks of his ass. 

Dean exhaled softly and pressed his face against the back of Sam’s neck and slipped his hand from beneath his brother’s to guide his cock lower, slipping it beneath the leg of Sam’s shorts and up against the soft, damp flesh of his balls, nestling himself between his brother’s thighs before wrapping his arm around Sam’s waist to pin him close and slinging a leg over his brother’s to tighten the space between his thighs. 

He thrust lazily, biting back a groan at the sticky tug of sweat-damp flesh around his cock. “Sammy,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the other’s shoulder as he slipped his hand down, beneath the hem of his brother’s shorts to wrap strong fingers around Sam’s erection, stroking him in time to his jerky, halting thrusts. Sam shuddered and clenched his eyes tightly closed, tightening his thighs around Dean’s cock as his brother rocked against his ass. Biting at the pillow, Sam reached behind to grab Dean’s hip and curled the fingers of his free hand around the hand Dean was pumping his cock with, urging his brother on.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll should know by now that I can never work on just one thing at a time! Tags and rating may change as the story progresses. I'm kind of like Chuck in that I only write what the characters want me to!


End file.
